


Consumed

by philos_manthanein



Series: All-You-Can-Eat [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Blood and Gore, Breeding, Cannibalism, Demon Sex, Feelings, Incest, Infertility, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philos_manthanein/pseuds/philos_manthanein
Summary: What's a mixed breed demon supposed to do when he can't fulfill the one thing his body aches for?





	Consumed

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah this is a sequel to the previous fic in this series!

Two problems hung heavily in the air, each battling for prevalence over the other. One: Nero was missing. That in itself might not have been a problem if he hadn’t been so entirely  _ demonic _ the last time he was seen. Two: The last person to see Nero, and thus Nero’s demon, was Dante. And Dante was taking this all terribly in stride for the person who ought to most care about his nephew potentially wrecking a few human structures - or humans in general - in his wake.

“It’s pretty obvious you’re the one in charge when Junior starts going all Amityville Horror ‘round here.” Dante shrugged as he switched his ice cream cone over to one hand to lick the melted pink confection from his fingers.

Vergil wanted to point out that, by the time Dante finished, his other hand would be covered in melted artificial strawberry cream, too. Chances were Dante wouldn’t care. Or he’d tell Vergil to come take care of it himself because Dante was as horny he was repulsive - especially so since their recent time in the underworld together.

“You’re implying I understand the boy’s demon better than you do?” Vergil asked though he knew it was probably true.

But he also knew Dante hated that Nero wouldn’t rely on him alone anymore. That was enough to ask, just to remind his brother that he was no longer the center of Nero’s world. In particular, because Nero’s demon side and Vergil’s own were now mated.

“I’m saying  _ I’m _ not the one that thing was crying about when it ripped the door off the hinges. Which you’re paying for, by the way.” Dante pointed out as he started slurping the ice cream that had predictably rolled over his formerly clean knuckles.

Vergil glanced at the wide void where DMC’s front door used to be. Said door now laid some ten feet or so on the sidewalk outside. The wood frame of the portal was warped and splintered, with several long claw marks dug against the grain for good measure. So Nero had done this apparently in a fit of hysterics - and that was somehow or another Vergil’s fault. Wonderful.

“I’ll go look for him,” Vergil announced as he walked toward the open gap in Dante’s wall.

Dante shouted something about money and construction contractors, but Vergil ignored that in favor of catching Nero’s scent. He also meditated on the veil, finding it healthy and intact. So this was likely not related to the boy's unusual hunger. A relief on one hand, not so much on the other. If the hunger had not called the demon out to play, then what else did?

Nero’s calling indicated that he wasn’t very far away. The bonding made him easy for Vergil to trace. Though the demon could fly, it seemed like it hadn’t intended to leave the general area at all. It must have sought mere privacy. Vergil considered this, and considered leaving it alone, but decided he was now too curious. He followed the tendrils of the calling, feeling almost pulled along by some thread tied about his ribcage. 

It led him to a large building. Some gaudy blue and yellow thing. No signage hung on the edifice, though there were some metallic bits left to show where they must have been before. The parking lot was empty and covered with litter. The front windows and doors were covered with plywood, which itself had been vandalized with spray paint. Rounding the building, Vergil found a steel side-door that hung open. The handle and latch appeared recently damaged. Safe to assume that Nero had done this. Vergil stepped inside. 

Inside it was mostly dark. Daylight leaked in from the ajar door and some pinhole cracks in the front plywood. For the most part, it was pitch black - the electricity having been cut many years previous. Vergil could still see well with his heightened senses. Even if he could not, he’d be able to find Nero from the overwhelming odor of blood that hung in the air.

All that remained of this wonderland of retail delights were empty cream-colored metal shelves. Many of them were in various states of dismantling. A few laid flat on the floor. One row looked like it had been toppled on purpose, made to fall like dominoes across the store’s carcass. Vergil wound his way through these forgotten bones until he reached what he was looking for.

Hunched in a wide-open area of cracked and peeling sea-green linoleum was Nero’s devil. All around its taloned feet spread a small pond of blood. Far too much for a single human to survive. In fact, it was enough to belong to several adults. But Vergil knew the scent; the calling soaked into that precious DNA. He stepped forward, leaving the prints of his boots in the blood until it rippled back into the gaps. The top layer of the puddle had formed a clotted film that clung in globs to his rubber soles.

“Not here, not here…” Nero’s harshly layered voice sounded almost sorrowful. “Where is it?” Where is it?!”

Approaching closer, Vergil could see the source of all the blood. Nero had gutted himself, quite literally. His son’s abdomen was ripped open, carved through from his ribcage to his hips and even lower cutting through his pelvis and pubic mound. His sword laid next to his right leg, soaked and shining with his blood.

Nero’s guts were splayed out before him. Each organ appeared to be placed with some sense of organization as if it had been carefully examined before being discarded. His intestines remained attached in a long twisting line back inside his body. Other organs, such as the liver, seemed to be ripped out completely, laid next to his kidneys and pancreas. Vergil watched as one kidney rolled on its own in a bid to replace itself inside Nero’s body. Nero grabbed the pitiful thing and crushed it in a claw. He set this back in place and it began regenerating itself.

“Where?! Where?!” Nero cried.

Carefully, Vergil squatted down in front of Nero and his mound of slippery, pulsating organs and arteries. Even for a demon, such a display was dangerous.

“What are you looking for?” Vergil asked.

Nero’s eyes were fully amber, but even without a pupil or iris Vergil could tell they held an unusual melancholy. So incredibly tortured and sad. They cried. The tears glowed bright and ultramarine. 

“Our womb,” The demon pleaded, then it looked down and tore more bits of its own blood-encrusted meat in its claws.

Oh, so that was it. Vergil sighed as the recognition washed over him. 

“You are only a quarter-breed,” Vergil explained, not wasting time on being delicate with a painfully indelicate matter. “You likely lack the necessary genetic material to create one.”

Nero let out a sickened noise, caught up in a sob. “We are fallow?”

Vergil nodded when Nero looked at him again. He pitied the creature before him. It was a cruel injustice. Nero’s demon only wished to do what should have been natural for a bonded pair. But they were an odd mix of broken potential.

“Then you, Father,” Nero’s double-toned voice practically begged. “You will carry our legacy?”

Vergil felt his pulse drop, swinging low. Nero crawled over his own organs to get to him. His wet, stinking crimson palms tried to cup Vergil’s face gently. The claws still dug into his scalp. Vergil didn’t complain, nor wince at the stinging pain. He merely held Nero’s yellow, illuminated gaze and those awful shimmering tears.

“I am but a half-breed,” Vergil spoke plain and steady. “It’s unlikely.”

Nero made a whining noise, shrill and desperate. “But we must try. We must. Our bond-”

Vergil leaned forward and kissed at Nero’s blue-hued mouth to silence him, unable to bear with the distressing sounds coming from his mate-spawn. “We will  _ try _ .”

This drew out a pleased anticipatory purr from Nero’s throat. A truly more delightful noise than the horrid sadness. Vergil reached for a handful of Nero’s discarded vitreous matter. He couldn’t recognize the healing lump, only feeling it pulsate against his palm in desperation to be reunited with its body. Vergil kissed Nero again, then pressed the squirming organ back into his son’s open torso.

“First, you will heal.” Vergil demanded as Nero’s body reclaimed its meat. “We would have you strong for our coupling.”

“Yes, Father.” Nero hissed excitedly.

Nero scrambled to shovel his innards back into himself. There was a giddiness to the action as he scooped and pressed them back into place, helping them reposition and stitch their valves back together. It was almost adorable - if a young demon cramming his own organs away like tube socks into a suitcase could be considered such. Vergil thought so.

As he watched this, Vergil allowed his own Devil form to unfurl. This was not a feasting, nor was it technically a new breeding between them. It would be the first time Nero would become the alpha partner. But that didn’t worry Vergil in terms of his own safety. 

And he did wonder, as his draconic scales pushed through and hardened over his supple human skin, if there was a chance his beautiful son’s seed  _ would _ take. If it did, then the formation of the womb would likely happen instantly. If Vergil’s understanding of demon physiology was correct, anyway. As a bonded pair making an offspring was as simple as copulating with that intent. Human breeding was far more unpredictable in that respect.

That also meant that Nero’s demon had purposefully intended to carry his child when they last had sex. Such a sentimental little quarterbred. Had he planned to surprise Vergil with it? Had he expected their child to be more worthy of pride? But it would be. Their issue could be wondrous.

Vergil’s devil form completed its transformation - intentionally slow to allow Nero time to heal and also offer a window to change his mind. But Nero was eager and his blue cock slipped free of its mound even before his scaled flesh had fully pulled itself back together. He nearly pounced on Vergil, pointed teeth bare and glistening. 

Nero latched onto his mouth, chewing into his serpentine tongue and swallowing the tip in whole. He could feel the fork of Nero’s own tongue flick at the back of his throat as Nero swallowed gulps of his blood. Vergil chomped back, ripping off the fork and eating it. It slithered all the way down his throat until it plummeted into his stomach. He could feel it wriggling inside as it started to dissolve. Nero made a keen, joyous noise as Vergil sucked the blood out of the stump, at least until it healed and reformed inside his mouth.

Pulling back, Nero grabbed hold of the large, rough scales of Vergil’s biceps. What were soft feather-like adornments in his hybrid form were now craggy, hard, and almost rocky in nature. In all Vergil’s demon was larger, more grotesque than Nero’s. But Nero’s beauty hid an awesome power. That only made the boy more gorgeous. A fine mate. A good progenitor for their legacy.

Nero dug his claws in, bidding Vergil to roll over into a more receptive position. Vergil obeyed this, having conceded himself to his son when they began. This was not about winning alphaship. He wanted to give Nero what he desired. There was a flicker of preemptive sorrow that it would not happen. Still, Vergil would try. His adoration for his partner demanded it.

The head of Nero’s cock was coated with a thick, wet slime. He’d began to press against Vergil even before he’d settled into position. Silly, eager boy. Affection swelled in Vergil’s chest hotter than any fire or poison.

Nero pressed inside Vergil and the stretch of his son’s thick and veiny cock ached in a welcome way. Vergil got up on his hands and knees and pressed backward against Nero, shoving him faster and deeper inside. His claws dug into the linoleum floor, creating trenches for the thickened, sticky brown-red blood that surrounded them.

Nero grunted and tried to still. Tried but failed. Vergil could feel Nero’s cock pulsing and twitching inside him.

“Do not coddle us, child,” Vergil’s distorted voice commanded. “Prove your seed is worthy.”

“Yes, Father.” Nero purred against Vergil, snapping his hips hard and fast to drive his cock deep and strong.

Dropping any sense of gentility, Nero fucked into his father violently. This was not unlike a sparring match or even an all-out battle. If they were weaker beings, Nero could have very well killed Vergil with the bone-breaking way he seized Vergil’s ribs. 

When that was not enough, Nero’s wing-claws grabbed Vergil’s arms and wrenched them backward. Holding him there to provide the perfect resistance for Nero to fuck into. Vergil used his exceedingly long talons to dig into Nero’s sides, feeling the top layers of scaled flesh pop as they gave in and let him feel that hot wet heat. Another day, perhaps Vergil would fuck into Nero’s fresh wounds directly.

They coupled for several long hours. Nero tossed Vergil around, manipulating his father’s bulk as he could. Sometimes he made demands. Sometimes Vergil would comply. He thrilled when Nero latched his teeth onto the front of his throat, tearing and feasting and making him feel heady as his own blood gargled and nearly drowned him. Then Nero spent minutes afterward tenderly licking the wound and encouraging Vergil to exercise his formerly damaged vocal chords.

But all the while Vergil focused on their main experiment. The true goal. They had a legacy to establish.

Nero finally reached his limit while Vergil was pressed on his side with Nero holding one of his thickly-scaled legs under the hook of his knee. When he started to come, Nero quickly dropped Vergil’s leg and reached for his father’s abdomen. A swift panic seized Vergil’s chest. He worried that Nero might gut him in his passion. If he did, he might spoil any womb that would have miraculously formed. But Nero did not cut him open. He merely laid his palm over the rough expanse of Vergil’s belly. Then he nipped at Vergil’s shoulder, murmuring as he emptied his thick ejaculate into his father.

“Our legacy shall be one of power and bravery.”

Vergil’s meditation of intent faltered only for a second of wonder and pain at those words. Then he resumed his visualizations, willing for his son’s seed to take. He did not stop this thinking until long after Nero had finished with him and began to fade back into his human form. By then they were both exhausted. Nero fell asleep there, naked and surrounded by his own coagulating blood, with an arm thrown so casually over his father’s still very demonic body. 

Vergil finally allowed himself to slip back too. He decided not to move, exhausted as he was. Should anyone have happened to break into that building as well, they would have likely run in fear at the sight or smell of the blood alone. Vergil laid with Nero curled around his back and his hand pressed against his abdomen. Vergil let his own hand cover Nero’s. He could not feel any indication that a womb had formed.

***

About a week passed before they were certain. The change would be instinctive. Nero would have noticed the change in Vergil’s scent. The calling would have told him long before Vergil’s body showed any signs. Their coupling didn’t take. They would not have any legacy together.

Nero’s demon took over in a flash and literally threw itself into a rage. It blasted itself through one of the second floor windows of Dante’s agency and took to the sky. Dante complained minutely, almost out of habit. But Vergil could see his brother’s disturbed expression hiding under his bitching and jokes. Vergil didn’t chase after his son this time. He also felt the need to wallow in his own disappointment alone for a while. 

Vergil went to Nero’s room. Though Dante had offered him his own space many times, Vergil preferred to stay near Nero whenever he was around, which was quite often lately. He laid in the bed and slept. When he woke he read a little, until he fell asleep again. His dreams were a white space. Better than nightmares.

It was late the next day when Nero returned. Vergil had spent several hours alone inside DMC. Dante had left to take care of a job, though Vergil suspected his brother was also keeping an eye out for Nero, too. 

Nero entered through the proper entrance this time, and he didn’t even break anything as he did. Vergil had been sleeping again, but he roused the moment Nero was within the building. He could feel Nero’s aura wasn’t entirely one shade or the other - that invisible trembling grey-area of his hybridized form. Nero pushed open the bedroom door and the glow of his amber eyes was even more otherworldly in the dark. His hair was long and his talons were out. He was crying liquid blue crystal again. Otherwise he was “normal”.

Nero lingered at the door, even though Vergil could feel his wanting. Why did he deny the comfort of touch, when Vergil was obviously more than willing to soothe him? As if Nero read the thought, he spoke up:

“Our bond is useless.”

Vergil went tense. His stomach clenched merely from the broken way his son’s voice sounded. If Nero would not come over, then Vergil decided to stand and go to him. But when he did climb out of the bed to approach, Nero reeled backward a few steps. 

“Break it,” Nero said.

Vergil stopped cold. “I will not.”

A ridiculous demand from an overemotional whelp. They could not procreate, but that did not lessen their importance to one another. In fact, Vergil posited they could only grow stronger the longer they could sustain each other. They did not  _ need _ to further their legacy. They would  _ become _ the legacy.

“Break it!” Nero screamed and his doubled voice shook the walls of his bedroom.

“No!” Vergil shouted back, his own hybrid self taking form in an eruption of spiky feathers and scales.

“Then we will break it for you!” Nero seethed and hurled himself at his father with a push of his spectral wings.

They slammed into the wall to the side of the night stand. Vergil’s back collided with the wood and plaster paneling. A large indentation formed, cracking outward from his body. Nero had used his shoulder as a battering ram. Vergil grabbed the arm on that side and twisted it, forcing Nero to fall to the side. There was probably an added threat that Vergil might claim the entire limb again. Even though Nero now had the ability to regenerate them, the boy was abnormally attached to his human appendages. Sentimental brat.

Vergil almost had Nero pinned with his chest to the floor, arm wrenched back, and with Vergil’s knee digging into his spine. But Nero let out a cry and wrapped his wing-claws around Vergil’s throat. He squeezed and choked his father, making Vergil see spots just long enough to twist and punch Vergil off of him with his free hand. 

Keeping his spectral claws around Vergil’s throat, Nero hoisted his father off the ground and then slammed him against the wall to his right. This wall buckled a little too. Holding Vergil there, Nero’s hands went to tear at Vergil’s bare chest. Vergil swiped at Nero and carved out one of his amber-tinted eyes. Letting out a shriek, Nero released his hold. Landing on his feet, it was Vergil’s turn to tackle Nero. They ended up bouncing onto the bed, but they didn’t remain there long. Nero rolled back and used a kick to shove Vergil up and over him. The kick was forceful enough to send Vergil crashing through the window. 

He landed on his feet on the street below. Glaring up at the broken pane, he saw Nero fly through it seconds later. The boy swooped down in his direction, but Vergil let his own wings snap out of his back. They were not spectral as Nero’s were. The force he used to summon them caused him pain and sent a small shower of his blood in all directions. But they worked. He jumped and flew away from Nero, intending to try and exhaust him long enough to get him to forget the notion of breaking thier bond.

But Nero was determined. Vergil had underestimated the true toll of his son’s grief. (Not for the first time either, he lamented.) Nero caught up over a grand expanse of a lake. He seized Vergil by a leg and whipped him downward. When Vergil tried to interupt that motion he was met with an elbow cracking against the back of his skull. Dizzy, Vergil could only feel Nero’s arms wrap bruisingly tight around his ribcage as they both dived into the water.

From how high and fast they fell, hitting the surface of the water was like slamming into concrete. The pain that rolled through Vergil’s body made him gasp, which flooded his lungs with water. He could hear Nero struggle under the water too, a muffled sort of scream. Nero’s arms went limp. They floated away from him. Vergil tried to look around for Nero, but the water was so murky. He could hardly sense the boy’s aura anymore. A sick panic rumbled in his stomach. Attempting to search was impossible. His body wasn’t regenerating fast enough to get him the air he needed.

Dark. Dark. Dark. 

The dark of nightmares.

The dark of a night spent running away from monsters.

The consuming darkness of  _ becoming _ the monster.

Monsters do not know love or sentiment. They only desire.

What use is a useless bond?

An aching chest.

Vergil opened his eyes to see Nero over him, still so gorgeously hybridized. The weight on his hips said Nero had straddled him. The soaking wetness on his hair and skin said he’d somehow been dragged from the water. The pain in his chest said what he didn’t want to hear. Nero had cracked open his sternum, and was now just inches from seizing his heart.

“Oh… oh…” Nero’s inhuman voice cooed at it, his yellow eyes staring in awe as if he beheld an ancient religious artifact. 

Vergil could feel the cold outdoors air like a dry breeze over the pericardial sac of his heart. It made his lungs itch too. But it was Nero’s talons he became most aware of; how they held open the skin and snapped bone so he could watch the horrified pulsing dance of his father’s raw heart. 

“So beautiful, this, our most beloved treasure.” Nero whispered, mesmerized, as he leaned closer. 

Nero’s breath felt warm against the drying muscle of his heart. A shiver shook through him. His clammy skin erupted with goosebumps. And then Nero’s lips brushed over his bare heart and Vergil gasped inwardly. Nero kissed so tenderly at it, sobbing, and his tears splashed into Vergil’s open, bleeding chest.

“Will you break it?” Vergil asked, his voice so light he questioned if he’d actually said anything out loud.

Nero gave a quaking cry, his breath again falling hot and humid over the thin protective sac of Vergil’s heart. “Oh we can’t. We can’t. We love this too much. This worthless bond.”

Lifting his hands, Vergil gently cupped Nero’s face. He forced his son to look up at him. Applying a hint of pressure, he encouraged Nero to move upward. Nero sobbed and let go of his father’s bones and flesh, instead sliding them underneath the flaps and closing Vergil’s chest up like a storybook. There was still bloody effluence on Nero’s mouth. Vergil kissed him anyway, long and deep, letting Nero cry and cry into him. 

Once Nero had calmed significantly enough, Vergil pulled back to speak to his son:

“This bond is not useless or worthless. I won’t have you say these things anymore.”

Nero’s hybrid gave a whine of disagreement, its brow tensing. “But-”

“Bitter, blinded child.” Vergil hissed at Nero sternly. “You  _ are _ my legacy.”

That made his mate-spawn pause, as he hoped it would. Vergil let his nose edge affectionately along the bridge of Nero’s, feeling the coldness of the tip. Laying wet on the rocky beach of the lake wasn’t very comfortable. But in that moment the comfort they both desired was not physical.

“I do not want for any others,” Vergil assured Nero, feeling his hybrid’s breathing start to even out, its aura slowly crawl over to the human side.

After a moment, Vergil also shifted over, though he and Nero still laid together. As Nero came back into reality, he seemed justifiably disturbed by what had happened. Vergil stayed mostly still to let his son process it, though he did let himself pet very softly at Nero’s lower back.

“I almost ate your heart,” Nero finally spoke up, still sounding shaken.

“I almost allowed you to,” Vergil replied.

“I’m… I’m sorry? I think? I feel like that’s something worth apologizing for…”

Vergil chuckled a little, not ceasing his rubbing of Nero’s back since it seemed to have a measurable calming effect. “You were in a state of mourning. As was I, I believe.”

“This is a lot to take. I’m…” Nero trailed off. “I still don’t get this demon breeding stuff. It’s kinda… scary…”

Vergil tilted his head and gave Nero another careful kiss, feeling his son relax more against him. “It is, but they seem content for now at least.”

Nero stayed quiet for a few minutes, and then:

“What would we have done? I mean, if one of us did get, like,  _ devil pregnant _ …”

“You’d think you wouldn’t be so awkward about the concept after you tried to inseminate me-”

“That was  _ HIM _ okay?!” Nero’s red hot mortification felt like a hot water bottle against Vergil’s neck.

Vergil laughed at Nero’s expense, though he tightened his arms reassuringly around him too. “Let’s not speculate. It will probably upset  _ them _ .”

Nero nodded and sighed a little.

“Besides, we do have more pressing matters.” Vergil said.

“Yeah? Like what?” Nero asked.

“Who’s going to tell Dante what happened to his house? You know whoever takes the blame will never hear the end of his complaining until it’s fixed.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Nero laughed then. “I mean, technically we could blame demons? Can’t sue them. Or make them do carpentry.”

Vergil gave an amused smile and pressed a kiss to Nero’s forehead. 

Such a pretty, clever, silly boy. 

A most interesting and enviable legacy.


End file.
